The Truth
by Dreaming Pup
Summary: YAOI WARNING Quatre has always loved Trowa, but the boy never seemed to care that much about him. And the stained glass window in the Winner mansion seems to be trying to tell Quatre something... or will a gift from long ago ignite love?


Silence. Complete and utter silence. It filled the immense hall like an overwelming stormcloud preparing to rain feircely down upon the marble floor. The long, dark blue draps that were hanging heavily over the marble balcony from the floor above and the chandelier glowed brilliantly in the otherwise dark room. The thick oak doors at the front, sides, and back of the hall lead to other rooms, ones occupied by the most dangerous young men Earth and the Colonies had ever seen. All five of the fighters were in the giant, white mansion of the Winner family and they had decided to settle there awhile. The rooms were all closed to the eyes, but the trained mind could imagine what each of the pilot's were doing inside. 

Herro Yuy would be busily typing the room reserved for him, probably on a new project from the Scientists. They were no longer sending him complex missions to kill, but lesser ones, such as finding terrorists and hacking into anti-goverment hard drives. His eyes would be locked with the ever moving screen and the information flying across it. The Japanese youth would quickly memorize the most needed data and continue on without hesitation. His eyes would be on the screen, but his undying love in his mind and heart would be on another Gundam pilot. 

The perfect soldier would ignore the giggling Deathscythe pilot that would be on his plain single bed behind he and his computer. Duo Maxwell would probably be staring over Herro's shoulder, even from the distance he was away from the computer and the typist. Or the braided American could be just staring at Herro, his precious lover, and hoping that the computer would be hacked into by somebody or the modem would explode so he could spend time with him. Either way, he would been content just to bask in the presence of Herro. 

Chang Wufei would be in his own room, across the large hall, with no one in his room. He would be deathly silent, eyes closed, deep in meditation. The things that rushed into his mind would be dealed with such a passion, one might think Wufei was the master of psionics. The Nataku pilot would not notice that the air conditioner in his room was blasting irregularly or that his favorite samuari sword was sticking out from its place underneath his pillow. He would only sit and mediate, not thinking about the war of the past and the problems of the future. 

On the same end of the hall, the most stoic of the five pilots would be sleeping peacefully in his near black-emerald bed. After Trowa Barton had finished counting the small rectangles on the ceiling, he would have fallen asleep, as if scheduled. He would listen softly to the rthymic purring of the small white cat snuggled against his stomach. The cat --- effectively named Truth --- was given to him as gift from who of all people, but his best friend Quatre. The Heavyarms pilot would probably dream of peace, happiness, and the love of his life, a young man who dealt him no love in return, considering Trowa had never made his love known. 

The last room was completely empty, void of the cheerful face of its occupant, or the calming music that came from the lonely violin left on the shelf of the cabinet. The room was freshly cleaned and everything was sickeningly organized. Not one sheet of paper was out of place, not one piece of lint was on the aqua blue bed sheets, not one stray hair was on the cream colored carpent. The only thing that was slightly different from the room's normal appearance was the overturned photo that usually was sitting up on the desk next to the bed. 

Quatre Raberba Winner was on the swirling, hard oak staircase just opposite from the front doors. He was sitting languidly on the third from top step and was staring motionlessly at the gigantic stained glass window twenty feet above the double doors. Something about the scene depicted from the outside setting of the mansion reminded him of the five Gundams. Once again, Quatre stared firmly at the window, in some pathetic hope of discovering the reality of the situation. 

There were rolling, green hills in the background and a large willow off the left, the branches and half of the trunk seen. A pair of pure white, almost angelic unicorns were walking from the draping tree and were paused in mid trot. One was entirely ignoring whoever imagined this scene and was facing the right side of the window. The other had halted and was observing the person just at the top of the staircase. Its round black eyes were thoughtless, yet they held some mystical sparkle that could have easily been a mistake of the maker. 

Quatre was peering silently at the stained glass for a more important reason this time. He had been getting more and more confused about his feelings, which were growing, not decreasing as he had expected when the war ended. The fact his problem never said anything --- besides the occasional 'hello' or 'how are you doing today' and even the most rare of all: full-blown conversation --- was becoming even more irritating. His problem was smiling ever so often, and only at Quatre, but that did not mean enough to make the Sandrock pilot believe his problem felt something. Sure Trowa *had* to feel something, but for him? 

Just as the blonde began to curse his luck, his fingers brushed against something very soft and furry. Quatre glanced down to see the ever-grinning gift he had given Trowa --- Truth, the little white cat. The love-blind blue eyes of the persian kitten were anime-like, for they were closed in satisfaction. Quatre played with the fur of Truth for a while, continuing to stare intently at the stain glass. Many things crossed his mind; how Duo and Herro had fallen in love and managed to squeek it out to their fellow Gundams, how Wufei always seemed to be alone throughout the whole war and even in the aftermath, how Trowa never spoke to anyone but him, how grateful Trowa had been to be staying at the mansion... Quatre's ever moving fingers brushed against something hard and grainy next to Truth's blue leather collar. He moved his vision to the little cat sitting beside him and peered in wonderment at the small note attached to Truth's collar. The blonde pilot pulled the neatly folded paper out of Truth's collar and unwrapped it with care. Quatre curiously read the first word, then the following sentence, and inhaled sharply as he did so. 

_______ 

Quatre, 

I love you. I never can manage to say it aloud when we're together. I always end up staring in your gorgeous blue eyes and everything I want to say fades away. I love you, Quatre. Please, please, tell me if you love me, Quatre. I don't think I can stand it if you don't. Truth is all I need. Either you do or you don't. If you don't, I will leave, I wouldn't be able to stand the pain. If you do, let me love you. Please, tell me. 

Trowa 

_______   


The Arab held the note over his heart and quickly tilted his head upwards. His observant blue eyes locked with those black dots of the unicorn's. Suddenly, it all came together in one giant explosion. The unicorns represented the fresh emotions of the Gundam lovers and the purity that was within that love. The willow was the druidic symbol of strong-willed individuals and emotional and enigmatic fighters. The hills were the continual cycle of war and peace, but the willow and unicorns instilled the clarity of commitment and passion. And Trowa loved him. That was something that Quatre understood more clearly than anything else. 

Truth meowed in return of the silence and Quatre swept the little cat in his arms. He literally slid down the stairs, on the railings, and nearly fell into his modest, tidy room. He gently dropped the messanger on the bed, along with the still open note, and swiftly brought the overturned photo to his chest. Quatre pulled it away from his pounding heart and stared through tear-stricken eyes at the memory. 

Trowa's usually hidden smile was abundant and his eyes were closed in friendly bliss. The normally solemn pilot's stature was casual and open and he looked pleased for once. His arm was wrapped around the small shoulders of a smaller, blonde youth with satisfied, open blue eyes. A wide smile was also apparent on the young blonde's face and he didn't seem to mind Trowa literally half-hugging him. 

Quatre smiled through the joyous tears at the photo of himself and Trowa, taken just a few months earlier. He had thought that the naturally impassive brunette thought nothing of him --- nothing more than a good friend and a good listener and caretaker. But he was wrong. Oh, he was wrong! Truth meowed piteously and Quatre snapped out of the serene trance. He carefully placed the photo upright on his table and picked the persian kitten up. 

Knock. Knock. The sound bounced off the heavy oak door facing Quatre and he made a quick swipe at the sweat slipping over his brow. Truth looked miserably at the young blonde and rubbed anxiously against him. With his spare hand, he quietly stroked the kitten's soft neck. The door crept open and the inquisitive face of Trowa Barton appeared in the small slot. His eyes brightened considerably once he realized who was at his door, then they slightly darkened. Quatre handed him Truth with an outstretched hand. 

Trowa took the kitten, eyes glancing down at Truth, then coming back up as Quatre said in a passionate whisper, "The truth is, Trowa, that I have always loved you and I always will..." 

Before he even completed speaking, the once impassive Trowa swung the door wide open, gracefully dropped Truth on the floor, and embraced Quatre with such a furious sentiment that the little blonde thought that he might die. 

Trowa's voice floated through his ears, "Thank you, for Truth." 

"Yeah, Truth's not such a present after all..." 

But Quatre found himself being kissed deeply before he was able to finish his second sentence by his newfound lover. 

~owari~ 

Kai *^^*   
  



End file.
